Last Surrender
by CrazyKate28
Summary: A Poetic O/S What do you do when the pieces don't fit anymore? What do you do when you don't think there is nothing left? Do you surrender one last time?


Last Surrender

**This is a Poetic Short Story, just a little something that was inspired by this awesome song. I just couldn't get it out of my head and had to write something. So, I kind of came up with my own little style here. Being the actual Poet that I claim to be, but I love my fiction, so why not put the two together, RIGHT?**

**Based on the Song "The Pieces Don't Fit Anymore" By James Morrison**

**I DO NOT own any of the song lyrics. No copyright infringement intended**.

She sat waiting, for what she didn't know. A single hope, that one _last_ hope. The door kept opening and closing, heat colliding with the artificial cold. In and out, they came. Ordering their lattes and iced coffees, with, or without whip.

Is this what the world was coming to? She didn't know anymore. The feeling of loss sat across from her in the form of an empty chair. The pieces didn't fit anymore.

"Excuse me, but are you using that chair?" She just shook her head. At the outstretched hand, her body didn't have the strength to face the person who would dare ask such a loaded question. A question that they had at how much weight it carried, that this one simple question would be what shatters her _last_ hope. The one hope that was now being dragged away by the hope-destroyer's hand; now what?

She no longer had her companion of loss. She let out a deep sigh as the sound of wood scraping across the tiled floor echoed through her, causing a shiver to rake over her skin letting the tiny plumes settle for a moment before fading away. She could feel the tears pricking at her eyes like a thousand tiny needles, trying to pour through her vision like a blinding sieve. The air sat in her lungs like a lead weight. The damage was done.

Sitting there waiting, completely alone now, nothing but the lack of hope drifted around her. She was sinking; the weight of her body was being pulled into the varnish of the wood. Her thoughts of what were, what could have been were oppressive, pushing her down further until she could feel the grain of the wood being imposed in the palms of her hands.

Why…why?

The thoughts ran through her mind like a movie reel, heated, soft touches, and the searing gaze of deep moss orbs burning into her. She shook her head, trying to banish the feeling of where it was all leading. Nowhere; anywhere but there; she wouldn't surrender, there had to be something better, there had to be. She didn't know why, she just couldn't explain it; the scattered and broken pieces just didn't fit anymore. She felt as if her skin was breaking, it was barely able to hold her together anymore. The line had been drawn, and not by her. Perhaps if she went outside to smoke, the nicotine would help.

Maybe?

The heat of the day was lingering in the surrounding twilight. The bruised sky, much like her soul, various shades of purple marking everything inside of her, she thought humorlessly. The spark of her lighter shot in her ears like a cannon, echoing her pain, drowning out the surrounding traffic of the parking lot. She closed her eyes as she inhaled deeply. Hoping that the smoke would fill in the cracks of the scattered, broken pieces that lay within her, the empty space that lay within her heart. Trying to hide the twisted shell of what was left of her.

Maybe I shouldn't have let that chair go, my last shred of hope. She quickly let that thought go as she took another drag of her cigarette. If only.

Her brows furrowed together as she felt something brush against her arm. Opening her eyes slowly she was met with a faded, black cotton wall.

"Do you mind if I bum one of those?" The voice was deep and raspy.

She didn't immediately look up at the source of what broke her away from her brooding. Reaching into her one source of temporary solace she pulled out the one thing she had left to share and handed over the white paper, wrapped stick of tobacco. Finally looking up, she was met with a troubled face. _Surrender_.

That was what she saw. It was the only word that fit what stood before her. He nodded his head towards her hand in an act of thanks. His dark unruly hair fell over his eyes; the long, rough fingers of his right hand came up and pulled it away. Fully revealing his eyes. _Surrender_. Her eyes narrowed slightly. She didn't know why, but she couldn't explain why it wasn't enough.

He turned away from her slightly as he placed the cigarette between his lips and pulled his own lighter from his tattered jean pocket. The ring on his left hand caught on the ripped seam of his pocket as he pulled out a scratched up Zippo. There was something engraved on the face of it, but she couldn't make out what it was. The click of his Zippo flicking shut caused her to startle. He didn't seem to notice and if he did, he didn't let on that he had.

He inhaled deeply before blowing the smoke out of his nose. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the stubble on his jaw, at least a couple of day's worth. His hair was in disarray most likely from having his hands pensively running through it, he also had bags under his eyes as if he hadn't slept in a while. At least he was in the right place for a pick-me-up. Taking another deep drag of her own cigarette she wasn't sure what to do. Should she say something? He didn't move from his spot. He just stood there breathing in the smoke and letting it out in a desperate and what seemed to be remorseful manner. Without realizing her body had turned to his slightly, closing the space between them, letting the air between them fade. She felt as if she was being pulled under, she couldn't explain it.

He brought his cigarette up to his mouth, pulling the smoke between his lips, into his chest, one last time before flicking it out into the parking lot. She was mesmerized by the rise and fall of his chest, as the faded, black cotton would restrict and contract with each breath; she couldn't seem to tear her unblinking eyes away. Her body was acting of its own volition; she was no longer in control of herself.

The atmosphere was thick and charged around them, in this open space of asphalt and air. He turned to her; his eyes were closed as he took a deep breath. She just stood there, her arms hanging at her side, fists clenched. She felt twisted; the space was to small even though they were outside. She felt closed in. The better thing to do would be to just leave. But she couldn't, she was being pulled under by his broken beautifulness.

The breeze swept up between them, causing the mahogany strands of her hair to dance across her face. His hand tentatively reached out with a bold grace, placing it behind the delicate skin of her ear. The rough pad of his finger trailed down the lean arch of her neck. The breath in her chest instantly stopped its heated escape as her eyes fluttered closed momentarily as she basked in his brief touch. Time seemed to pause in that moment for them, giving them the smallest of reprieves from the harsh reality that was relentlessly going on all around them. As if anyone walking past had a clue.

He slowly opened his eyes. "There's no use," he whispered. "I have tried and I don't know why…but I can't explain why it's not enough." His shoulders slumped in defeat. "There is no use in pretending anymore. I…I had to give in." He paused taking another deep breath. "I need you, please don't leave…I…" He trailed off as if he didn't know what more to say.

She stood there. She didn't know what to do, what to say. The door kept opening and closing, heat colliding with the artificial cold. In and out they went, lattes and iced coffees, with or without whip. Perhaps the pieces could fit together once more.

**I would love to know what you all think. I love your reviews. They mean so much to me. Love or Hate, they are all good in my book, I take away something from them all. Much love to you all for reading. You Keep me going. **


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